


GASOLINA PLAYING IN THE DISTANCE

by Yuripaws



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Beach Sex, Bottom Victor Nikiforov, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Hotel Sex, Loud Sex, M/M, Post-Canon, Public Hand Jobs, Public Sex, Roof Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, The Beach Episode, Top Katsuki Yuuri, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-25 01:37:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10754040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yuripaws/pseuds/Yuripaws
Summary: The SkateFam™ wants to go on a chill vacation. Unfortunately, Miami has no chill.(For the yoikinkmeme)





	GASOLINA PLAYING IN THE DISTANCE

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the yoikinkmeme (I wasn't supposed to write a new fic but I couldn't resist.)
> 
> PROMPT: 486  
> Victor/Yuuri + vacationing, NSFW
> 
> They travel outside of Russia or Japan during off season and relax because they deserve it!! Public or semi-public sex included.
> 
> \----
> 
> LOOK  
> I'M SO SORRY, first of all
> 
> Second, I'm Cuban and from Miami and I can guarantee you that everything here is 10000% true
> 
> Third, FUCK daddy yankee, but gasolina is funnier than DALE MR WORLDWIDE
> 
> Fourth, please don't sue me, Hotel Victor, but anyway you should be honored to have attractive fictitious gay men going at it like bunnies in your esteemed penthouse suite. You're welcome.

## 

“ _Miami!_ ”  


Yuuri watches wearily as Viktor sprints into a flurry of seagulls, flapping at them insanely. He nearly trips over his sandals, catches his balance, then falls flat on his face when Makkachin bowls him over excitedly.

“Please be careful,” Yuuri calls out halfheartedly. It’s hot. Way too hot. And sandy. And wet. He just wants to collapse onto the nice towel he’s just laid out under his blessedly shady umbrella on the beach, but Viktor comes bounding back, shaking sand everywhere. He splays himself out on the towel, crumpling it, and looks up at Yuuri innocently.  


“Yuuri! I’m hot. Rub lotion on me?”  


“No,” Yuuri says dully, sitting beside him and trying to wipe his glasses clean. “You’re covered in sand. You look like a breaded chicken.”  


Viktor looks _delighted_. Before he can make what is sure to be some sort of bird-related double entendre, he’s cut off by an angry huff.

“You’re so fucking  _embarrassing_.”

Yurio is hunched up on his towel a few feet away, glowering at them from under his own large umbrella. His pale skin has been growing pink under the glaring Florida sun, and Yuuri is concerned for him.

“Otabek,” he calls out, and the quiet boy sitting beside Yurio looks up at him. “Would you mind helping Yurio put on more lotion? He looks like he might be getting a sunburn.”  


Yurio looks torn between wanting to strangle Yuuri and wanting to strangle himself, and as Otabek nods and scoots closer, Yurio’s face is so red that Yuuri entertains the idea of asking the other boy to apply extra to his cheeks. But then Yuuri remembers that he sort of enjoys being alive, so he passes.

He turns his attention back to Viktor, the love of his life, who’s still flopped onto his back, looking like something that ought to be thrown into a skillet. Yuuri’s stomach growls.

Coming to America had been Viktor’s idea. He wanted to vacation somewhere exciting, and Yuuri had been prepared to show him around the places he’d lived in or traveled to during his college years.

But Viktor had chosen Florida. He and Yakov would vacation in Cuba on occasion when Viktor was younger, and now Viktor wanted to visit Miami, because it was “probably the same thing,” as he had put it. Yuuri doubts that. But Yuuri’s the sort of person who likes to see the good in everyone, and give everything in life a chance to shine.

He had set foot into Miami for all of five minutes before deciding that Florida was a godless place.

Everyone was angry, traffic was terrible, and everything was insanely expensive. None of these things seemed to bother Viktor. 

He seemed to get along well with the angry Miami natives, in fact. He had engaged their taxi driver in a long, loud, and in depth conversation while the rest of them sat in the backseat awkwardly, unable to follow, and when Yuuri had later asked him in surprise if he spoke Spanish, Viktor had smiled.

“No, but I speak Cuban!”  


As for Miami’s hefty price, Viktor had money to spare, and soon the four of them had found themselves dropping their luggage off in a gorgeous and vast room in a luxurious and horrendously priced hotel in South Beach. It wasn’t _the_ most luxurious and horrendously priced hotel in South Beach, but it was named Hotel Victor, and Viktor had found that absolutely _hysterical_. He’d strolled right in and demanded to have the grandest suite they had, and had even demanded that Makkachin be allowed to stay with them. Viktor always had a way of getting what he wanted.

And what he wants now, Yuuri thinks wearily, is someone to rub lotion on him.

“Please, Yuuri?” Viktor bats his eyelashes at him, and Yuuri is amazed that someone with sand smeared across their lower face like a scraggly beard can manage to look so divine.  


“Okay, fine.”  


Viktor flips over, wiggling his hips at him. “Do my back first, Yuuri,” he purrs. and Yuuri prays that his face hasn’t grown as red as Yurio’s. He shoots the two boys a nervous glance, but sees that they’ve run off already, headed towards the water. Well, that’s one less thing he’d have to worry about.

The lotion he tries to spread on Viktor’s back ends up clumped and sandy, and he brushes it off clumsily. He tries again, and it spreads out more smoothly, and Yuuri can feel Viktor relax underneath him, his muscles gliding under his now slick and shining skin. Yuuri tries not to stare. He’s not doing a great job at this.

Viktor props himself up on his elbows, looking back at him. “Don’t stop, Yuuri,” he pouts, and Yuuri swallows hard. He rubs more onto his lower back, lower and lower, and he hears Viktor sigh, feels him lift his hips slightly. Yuuri massages the skin above his swimming briefs, and Viktor sighs again.

“Yuuri,” he says softly, “do the front?”  


Yuuri freezes. “I-I, um, _what?_ The front?”

Viktor raises his hips a little higher, making a small whining sound.

“Yes,” he breathes, “please?”  


Yuuri looks around in what he hopes is a very discrete way. If there's one thing he admires about Miami, it’s that most of the time, people keep to their own business to the point of pretending the people around them don’t even exist.

No one seems to be staring at them, binoculars ready, cameras out, so Yuuri rubs more lotion onto his hands and positions them at Viktor’s waist. They tremble as they slip down, and when they slip forward and under, Viktor moans softly, and Yuuri almost faints. His fingers brush against the front of Viktor’s briefs, and the hardness he feels there makes him blush madly.

"V-viktor, _really?_ You're..." he trails off nervously, glancing around again.

"I can't help it, Yuuri. Not when you touch me like _that_." His voice is so seductive, and Yuuri melts. “Please don't stop.”

Yuuri’s hands slip lower. They slide under the waistband of Viktor’s briefs, and Viktor gasps, and Yuuri blushes harder. He withdraws them, but Viktor groans.

“ _Touch me._ ”  


Yuuri feels like dying, but he obeys. Covered in lotion again, one hand snakes forward back into his briefs, and Yuuri wraps his fingers around Viktor’s cock. Viktor moans softly again, gasping slightly when Yuuri starts to pump him slowly. 

Yuuri looks around wildly, his face bright red, but again, no one seems to notice. Or care. Yuuri strokes a little faster. His other hand starts to reach around, but Viktor speaks up again.

“I want you inside of me, Yuuri,” he pants, and without thinking, Yuuri’s other hand slides back, and his oiled fingers slip down between Viktor’s legs, pushing the fabric of his briefs aside, and Viktor gasps sharply when Yuuri’s finger enters him.  


“Oh, _Yuuri_ ,” Viktor moans, and Yuuri panics.  


“Viktor, not so loud,” he hisses, but he fingers him faster, and Viktor moans again. _Shit._  


“Fuck me, Yuuri,” Viktor pants, trembling. “Please, Yuuri, please, I _need_ you.”  


_Oh GOD, what have I done?_ Yuuri thinks frantically, and he casts another look around. Is it just his imagination, or is that guy over there staring? No, he’s turning away. But now _that one_ is looking, are they looking at _us?_

But Yuuri feels his heat rising, and he wills himself not to snap. Viktor looks so good beneath him, head bent, back heaving as he pants, hips pushed up, and gleaming, slick and shining under the hot and dazzling sun.

He still sort of looks like a breaded piece of meat, and Yuuri is _starving_.

Yuuri withdraws completely, and Viktor turns around, but the indignant pout forming on his face slips away, and he must see the hunger in Yuuri’s eyes, because he looks so helpless now, so inviting.

“Eat me, Yuuri,” he purrs.  


Yuuri’s stomach growls again.

They’re halfway through gathering their things when Yurio and Otabek return, Makkachin trailing behind them happily.

“We’re, um, going to go back to the hotel. See you soon!” Yuuri waves and turns to go.

“Don’t come back until we’re done!” Viktor says cheerfully, and Yuuri feels his insides curl up and die. He can’t see Yurio’s face but he can tell that he wants to murder both of them the spot. This is Miami, no one would notice.

Otabek spares the three of them their oncoming meltdown.

“Yura. Do you want to walk around the beach with me?”

Yurio sputters, but Yuuri and Viktor are already racing away before they can hear his response. 

They stumble through the door to their penthouse, and Yuuri has Viktor by the waist before it’s even fully shut. He presses kisses along his jaw, and his breath is ragged as he pants against his ear.

“Where do you want it?”  


His lips trail down Viktor’s neck, sucking and biting, and Viktor moans, running his fingers through his hair. Yuuri’s getting impatient, and he’s ready to take Viktor on the couch, on the bed, in the shower, anywhere, when Viktor finally responds.

“Let’s go upstairs.”  


Yuuri pulls away, gaping at him.

“Up...stairs?”  


There’s a private terrace, he remembers suddenly. A terrace. _On the roof._

“Viktor,” he says slowly, “you... want to... um, on the _roof?_ ”  


Viktor gives him a look so sultry that Yuuri forgets how to use words, or how to think, or how to do anything else besides drag Viktor up to the private terrace. He snatches up the massage oils they’d brought with them. Yuuri isn’t exactly sure if sun lotion ought to be used as lube, but he isn’t about to find out.

The sun is even brighter up here, and the jacuzzi looks so inviting. Yuuri nearly slips getting into it, taking Viktor down with him. They sink into the bubbling water, mouths meeting, tongues sliding, hands moving, and when Yuuri’s fingers slip under Viktor’s briefs to wrap around his cock again, he moans loudly, and Yuuri freezes.

Viktor pants, leaning back against the edge of the tub, pushing the wet strands of his silver hair out of his eyes. He licks his lips and grins.

“Don’t worry, Yuuri. No one can hear us.”  


Yuuri is pretty sure _everyone_ can hear them, considering how clearly he can hear the bustle of the crowd below. The hotel isn’t even very tall, which seems to be the norm on this island. He could probably peek over the edge of the short wall and make awkward eye contact with a stranger from a distance.

Viktor’s arms wrap around his neck, his fingers running through his hair as he brings him closer. Their lips meet again, and Yuuri’s worries melt away, and the only thing that matters now is the tongue twisting against his and the cock throbbing in his hand. The water splashes over the edge as Yuuri moves, pumping Viktor faster, and Viktor throws his head back, gasping.

“ _Oh_ , Yuuri! Yes, faster!”  


But Yuuri lets him go, grabbing his hands and pinning them with his own. Viktor starts to whine, then cries out as Yuuri grinds his cock into his. Yuuri gasps and groans, bucking his hips hard against Viktor’s, and the friction between their briefs has his eyes rolling back.

“ _God,”_ he moans into Viktor’s ear, and Viktor shivers hard, spreading his legs wider.  


“Yuuri, please,” Viktor whimpers.  


“Please, what?” Yuuri murmurs, grinding harder. He looks down at him, and Viktor is flushed such an alluring shade of red that Yuuri is stunned. Viktor pants as he looks back at him, and his eyes speak before his mouth moves.

“ _Fuck me._ ”

Yuuri tries not to drop him as he heaves him out of the water, and they stumble towards the large lounge sofa against the walled edge of the roof. Yuuri pushes Viktor back onto it, then grabs the oil, rubbing it into his hands. He wants to see Viktor sleek and shining again. He grabs Viktor’s waist tight, pulling him close as he climbs onto the sofa to join him, and he massages it into his skin slowly, watching him squirm underneath him.

Yuuri yelps in surprise when Viktor yanks him down, fingers running through his hair again. They kiss, and Yuuri’s skin slides against Viktor’s, so smooth and wet, and they’re grabbing at each other’s briefs, yanking them down and off, and when their freed cocks grind together, Yuuri cries out, and Viktor groans and grins.

“Shush, Yuuri, you’re being too loud!”  


Yuuri bites his neck in response, grinding harder, and Viktor whines desperately.

“P-please, Yuuri,” he begs.  


Yuuri pulls away, looking him up and down and licking his lips. Viktor is still flushed so beautifully, his eyes glazed with lust, and now he leans back against the cushions, panting. He runs his fingers through his hair again, and his other hand glides down his body as he spreads his legs wider. Yuuri’s eyes follow.

“Please,” Viktor moans, his hand reaching his cock, pumping it slowly. His other hand slides down past it, and he spreads his legs even wider as his fingers rub around his hole. “Fuck me, Yuuri,” he purrs, bucking his hips slightly.  


Yuuri’s mind goes blank as he surges forward, and his teeth sink into Viktor’s lips, making him whimper. He grips Viktor’s waist hard, squeezing until he cries out in pain, then his hands slide down and behind him, grabbing his ass hard, lifting him. He turns so that his own back is against the cushions now, and he lowers Viktor down into his lap. Viktor straddles him, arms wrapped around his neck, trembling.

Yuuri gropes for the oil to coat his fingers in it, and when he slides one inside of Viktor, slick and dripping, Viktor groans softly, pushing back down onto it. Yuuri slides in another, and another, and Viktor trembles harder.

Viktor watches Yuuri as he drizzles oil onto his cock, his eyes dark, lips parted, and his tongue darts out to lick them.

“Mm, Yuuri,” he says softly, “you’re so _big._ ”  


Yuuri blushes hard, looking away. Viktor always says this, but Yuuri finds it embarrassing. “V-viktor... don’t say stuff like that!”

Viktor’s lips curl into what he thinks is an innocent smile. Yuuri isn’t entirely convinced.

“But Yuuri, it’s true,” he says, suddenly looking shy. “You’re so _thick_... h-how can I... I can’t fit _all_ of you inside of me, can I?” He looks away, blushing.  


Yuuri’s heart is beating fast enough to kill him, and his cock twitches in his hand. It's embarrassing, but so _hot_. Viktor looks back down at him, his long lashes glistening, his cheeks so red, and he licks his lips again.

“Mmm, so _big,”_ Viktor moans loudly, and Yuuri’s breathing quickens as he strokes himself faster. “You might break me, Yuuri.”  


Yuuri grips Viktor’s hips tight and jerks him down onto his cock. He inhales sharply as he enters him slowly, and Viktor moans again, pressing down.

“A-ah, Yuuri, o- _oh_ , yes, Yuuri! _God_ , your cock is so _big!_ ”  


Yuuri feels his cheeks burning. Viktor is so loud, he’s certain that _someone_ must hear. But Viktor feels so tight around him, pulsing and squeezing, and Yuuri leans his head back against the wall, groaning as Viktor slides down into his lap fully.

“Oh!” Viktor gasps, “Oh, _god_ , Yuuri!” He grips his shoulders tight, nails digging in. Yuuri takes a shuddering breath, grabbing Viktor harder, and withdraws and thrusts up into him.   


Viktor screams, and Yuuri freezes, eyes wide.

“Viktor,” he growls, “ _be quiet!_ ”  


But Yuuri’s resolve falters as Viktor starts to bounce on his cock. He growls again, bucking up into him, and when Viktor cries out, Yuuri doesn’t stop, because the sound is so sweet to him, and he sees Viktor grip the top of the wall as he drives up into him faster, and suddenly Yuuri realizes that Viktor’s _gripping the top of the wall,_ and he sees that Viktor is high enough to be looking over it, over the low rooftop wall, visible to anyone looking up, or across from other hotels, and Yuuri doesn’t know whether to be terrified or thrilled.

Viktor’s back arcs as he rides harder, and when Yuuri thrusts himself deeper, he screams, and Yuuri thinks he hears cars honking, but no, there’s always cars honking, there’s always terrible traffic and rude people, they can’t be honking at _them_.

“Yuuri! O-oh, oh _fuck_ , YUURI, yes! _Yes_ , harder!”  


Yuuri fucks him harder, and now he hopes that people _are_ looking. He hopes they see Viktor riding him, he hopes they hear Viktor scream as his cock drives into him. He hopes everyone knows that Viktor Nikiforov belongs to _him_ , and no one else.

“Fuck,” he pants, groaning as Viktor slides up and down, up and down, “Viktor you feel so g-good, f- _fuck.”_  


“Yeah?” Viktor moans, “Does that feel good? You like it like that, Yuuri?”  


Yuuri feels a searing heat shoot through him, and with a snarl he pushes forward, and Viktor shouts in surprise as he’s thrown onto his back on the sofa, and Yuuri kisses him deeply, moaning into his mouth, his cock still deep inside him, and Viktor cries out as Yuuri thrusts into him fast and hard.

“Scream for me,” Yuuri moans against his lips, and Viktor arcs his back, crying out, wrapping his legs around him, clawing his shoulders.  


“YUURI!” he screams, clawing into him harder, and he spreads his legs wider for him, “ _FUCK_ , Yuuri! Deeper! I want all of you, give it to me, _please!_ ”  


Yuuri shakes hard and pushes himself as deep as he can, and Viktor is screaming himself hoarse, and Yuuri wonders how anyone _can’t_ hear them now.

He pounds Viktor hard into the sofa, and he thinks he hears the wicker crack beneath them, and it’s just as loud as the screams tearing from Viktor’s lips, and his own screams rise to meet them, the two of them crying out, and when Yuuri grabs Viktor’s cock again, jerking him fast, Viktor’s screams are near-deafening, his thighs shaking hard, his toes curling as Yuuri breaks him.

Viktor’s cock is live in his hand, pulsing and straining, and Yuuri loves the feel of it, and he thumbs the head, feeling it dribble, and it nearly sends him over the edge.

“Viktor,” Yuuri growls, “don’t come until I tell you to.”  


With a pitiful whine, Viktor squirms, and Yuuri can see how hard he’s trying not to lose control.

“B-but,” he gasps, “you feel _so_ good, o-o- _OH!_  Yuuri, your c-cock feels so _good_! Make me come, Yuuri, pl- _please_! I want to come for you!”  


His moaning is absolutely _obscene_ , loud and shameless, and Yuuri himself is fighting to keep control, but he feels himself slipping, because Viktor is so delicious beneath him, so delicious squeezed tight around him, so delicious throbbing in his hand.

He feels his hips start to jerk and buck uncontrollably, and he knows he can’t hold back much longer. Viktor is nearly vibrating, his eyes rolling back, and when Yuuri feels himself break, he moans against Viktor’s ear.

 _“Come.”_  

Viktor’s screams echo throughout the entire island, Yuuri is sure, and the cock he’s pumping spurts wildly, coating his fingers thickly, dripping down his hand, and Viktor jerks his hips up in a final spasm of ecstasy. Yuuri cries out, his thighs shaking as he comes hard inside him, deep inside, and they collapse, twitching and shuddering and moaning.

Yuuri buries close to Viktor, holding him tight, panting and trembling. He still hears car horns blaring, people shouting, but right now, he doesn’t care what they’re about. Viktor kisses the top of his head, sighing happily.

“Well, wasn’t that fun, Yuuri?”  


Yuuri blushes deeply, mumbling into his chest.

“Hm?”  


“You really are embarrassing, sometimes.”  


Viktor lets out a bark of laughter. “Yes! That’s the best part!” He grabs his face, squishing his cheeks lovingly. “You’re so cute, Yuuri!” He nuzzles him, bursting with affection.

Yuuri groans, resigned to his fate of being squished to death.

When they finally decide that it’s too damn hot outside, they make their way down to their penthouse, ready for a long and relaxing bath. They freeze when they enter, but only for a moment, because they have to move fast to dodge the cushions, pillows, and various other things Yurio is throwing at them.

_“You two DISGUSTING FUCKING PIGS, what the FUCK are you doing? You're so goddamned EMBARRASSING, and put some CLOTHES on, you assholes!”_  


Otabek looks caught between wanting to stop him and being too embarrassed to do anything. He sort of gives them an apologetic but also incredibly awkward look. Yuuri returns it. Makkachin whines.

“Yurio!” Viktor chirps, “Don’t be so dramatic! Did you have a nice date while we were gone?”  


The room has gone deadly still.

Yuuri and Otabek slide away from their respective mates nearly in unison, looking as though they’re ducking for cover. Yurio is shaking with rage, and Viktor is smiling, seemingly oblivious.

“Well? Did you two hold hands?”

“I’m going to take a bath,” Yuuri says quickly, excusing himself immediately. Otabek shoots him the distressed look of someone who’s just been betrayed, but Yuuri is behind closed doors before he can even mouth an apology.

Yurio’s screaming echoes throughout the entire island.


End file.
